Edge of night
by SophH
Summary: Merlin dies, Arthur can't let go... but maybe he doesn't have to.


**A/N - I should be working on a million other things, but I wasted the day writing this. Do I regret it... not even in the slightest.  
>Based on the recent Vampire diaries's episodes, so if it feels familiar that's where it's from, and the song Don't let me go by Raign. No relationships as such, take it as you will. <strong>

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><p><em><strong>LETTING GO<strong>_

Some days, it was… easier.

The sun filtered in, striking into his bedroom and upon his face, allowed by rapidly opened curtains. As soon as the first beam hit his eyes, he awoke, a habit too old to let go off now. Ripped from his dreams and forced to return back to reality, Arthur stubbornly held on. He laid, motionlessly, tangled in his sheets, feeling the steady rise and fall of Gwen's breathing beside him.

George would patter around, placing a silver platter of food down, sweeping the ashes from last night's fire, picking up yesterday's clothes from the floor; Arthur would listen to it all. Pretending it was someone else.

"Good morning Sire, My Queen."

The dream finally shattered, the pieces crumbling to the floor and scattered to the winds. Groaning, Arthur would blearily open his eyes, taking in the clean room, the armour gleaming in the corner, and George's never smiling face.

As soon as George saw his eyes were open, a look of relief passed briefly over his features before he gave his customary morning speech.

"The weather is warm today Sire, yet likely to become overcast after noon. I prepared your winter jacket in case of rain. You have only one council meeting today Sire, to discuss further, the lifting of the ban"

And just like that, Arthur knew it would be one of the easier days. Swinging his legs out of the covers and over the side of the bed, the King shivered as cold air hit naked flesh, where the tunic didn't quite reach. Again, George's shoulders seemed to slump slightly as if a great weight had been lifted off of them, as another expression of relief flickered briefly in his eyes.

Arthur waved a hand at him, quietly dismissing his manservant. George bowed low, his nose almost touching his knees, before he straightened and left the room.

Padding lightly over to his window, Arthur looked out at his Kingdom. George was right; the sun was beaming down on the pale rooftops of Camelot, making it seem to shine with splendour. However dark clouds loomed on the horizon, their rolling black masses steadily coming closer.

Behind him, he heard Gwen stir, prompting him to dress for the day. Walking over to the clothes George had laid out for him. His hand lingered on a small patch of cloth, stitched messily.

His hand twitched for a second before he hurriedly shoved his head into the clothing. He wouldn't allow his mind to wander.

When Gwen's eyes opened, Arthur was already dressed, sitting down at his desk, casually tearing off bits of bread as he read through the morning reports George had helpfully left him. He met his wife's eyes across the room and smiled a little. Gwen returned the smile, sadly, yet Arthur noticed the relief on her face today, almost exactly the same as George's.

"Morning" she called, her voice soft, as if she was speaking to a startled colt.

"Morning" Arthur returned just as quietly, before turning back to the reports.

Low wheat harvest from an outlying farm, report of a theft from a travelling merchant, the possibility of bandits edging closer to Camelot's border. Arthur half read the black ink, one ear listening to Gwen shuffling around, and one half of his mind… somewhere else.

It was always the same, even on his good days. It was just like he couldn't give something his full attention. He only half listened to the meetings, dealing with issues with half-hearted replies, listening to Gwen tell him about her day, and he could only summon up a 'hmm' every now and then. Even his knight's training suffered, when his heart was just not in it and he would forget to parry and walk around with a blooming bruise for a week.

Sighing, Arthur laid down the final report, just as there was a hurried knock at the door. "Come in" he said, not even looking up from his breakfast.

"So sorry Mi'Lady" the high voice squeaked as soon as she entered. Gwen's hand maiden, Arthur thought, now realising what was missing from the morning routine. He hadn't even noticed, but, he supposed, when there is already a giant hole, you tend not to notice the smaller holes appearing.

"It's alright Elinor" Gwen hushed the despairing woman. "I've gotten dressed by myself for the first 22 years of my life, I think I can manage another day" she said kindly.

At that Arthur got up, stretching his legs as he strode across the room. He had his hand on the door knob when he suddenly remembered.

"I have a meeting" he addressed Gwen, feeling ridiculously formal, yet not knowing how to fix it. Gwen nodded from where she was patting down her dress.

Arthur left without another word.

The meeting droned on. The council men argued, back and forth, their voices sounding like a thousand buzzing flies, fighting over a rotting corpse. Arthur sat listening for some time, his head pounding more and more heavily, as the heat and stifling voices overtook him.

He slammed his hand down on the circular table.

Silence instantly threatened the great hall as Arthur slowly stood from his seat. On his left Leon gave him a worried look. Even Gwaine looked at him like he was a nervous stallion, ready to bolt at the slightest inclination.

Arthur ignored them all, staring at the stone blanketed by the red banners of his house.

"I am the King" he said quietly.

This was his only connection. They wouldn't take it away from him.

Around him, the councilmen and knights looked nervously at each other.

"The ban is lifted" he finally spoke. Weeks they had been fighting over the logistics of this fact. How much? How soon? When? What? Where? So many questions.

His father had once placed the ban on the Kingdom. He had done it in a night, in a rage that meant he wouldn't blame himself. The next day the Purge had begun, and the Kingdom of Camelot had changed completely.

Sometimes he wondered, was he only doing this on a whim also. So he wouldn't blame himself? But then he remembered, questions weren't the answers. They were endless and betraying, so he forgot them.

"I am the King" he repeated. His father had been King. "I'm lifting the ban" he turned to Gaius. The old physician looked like he had aged more in the last few months, than he had in all of his life. Lines drew his face down in a permanent frown. Eyes that had once held laughter and a certain mischievous light, were now dead.

"I'll leave logistics in your hands Gaius" he said. "We'll work it out later, but for now the ban on magic in Camelot is lifted."

He spoke clearly, his voice echoing around the stone walls. He didn't want to be misunderstood. Again the people seated around the round table looked at one another, but slowly they nodded, one by one. When the last had nodded their approval, a reluctant Geoffrey, Arthur strode across the room, ignoring the scrape of wood against stone that signified the others were leaving also.

Gwen was waiting for him when he stepped out of the doors. Her ebony hair shone in the sunlight filtering in through a window, her dress the envy of many princesses and queens alike. Yet her expression was sad as she looked at him. Behind him, Arthur felt the presence of his knights.

"Arthur" Gwen soothed, taking a step closer to him. Arthur looked at her dispassionately. "We're going to visit Merlin. You should come" she laid a gentle hand on his arm.

A lance of pain stabbed through his heart at the name, but he showed no sign of it.

"Yeah come on Sire" Gwaine's bubbly voice bounded into the conversation as the man appeared in his vision, hair bouncing off his shoulders. "Let's go say hi to the idiot"

Leon moved in front of him, glaring at Gwaine before he turned to Arthur. "We know you have nothing to do this afternoon Sire" he said softly. On his arm, Arthur felt Gwen squeeze his arm reassuringly, and suddenly he felt trapped.

Backing away, he gently pried the long slender fingers from his arm before he abruptly turned and swept down the hall.

A group of sighs followed him down the corridor, making him pick up his pace.

"What else can we do?" Gwen's sweet voice sounded.

"He'll hear you" Leon chastised.

Gwaine scoffed. "He doesn't care; it doesn't matter if he does"

Arthur rounded the corner almost at a sprint, the voices of his friends and wife finally evaporating. A heavy sigh escaped his own throat.

He knew he was causing them pain, but he just couldn't give them what they wanted. They wanted him to move on, to let go. And that was just not possible.

His footsteps rung out loudly against the carved stone steps, but he made no effort to quieten them. The dungeons were empty, no prisoners and no guards to guard them. Straw ruffled against his boots as flame flickered on the wall.

Taking one of the torches, Arthur hesitated for a split second before he walked past the empty cells, deeper into the bowels of his castle.

Darkness threatened to consume the winding caves, only kept at bay by the small flickering torch that bled light into the black. Arthur's heart rate picked up as he got closer and closer to his destination.

"Soon" he whispered to himself. "I'll be there soon… Merlin"

The cavernous hollow opened up to him suddenly, other small flickering lights greeting him and his torch like old friends.

Placing the torch in a holder he had fashioned in the second month, Arthur gingerly stepped forward picking up the bowl that sat amongst the candles reverently. The herbs inside gave off a foul smell that almost choked him, yet he inhaled gratefully.

_Soon. _

Placing the bowl back on the rock he was using as a table, he picked up a candle, letting the wax drip into the herb mixture until suddenly flames, blue as his eyes, leapt from the bowl.

Smiling, Arthur waited impatiently, willing the flames to die down quickly. The moment seemed to last a lifetime.

Finally the last flame died its death and Arthur eagerly snatched the bowl back up again. The now liquid contents splashed at the movement, soaking onto his hand. Arthur didn't even seem to notice the burning sensation as he greedily drank the liquid within.

It burned as it slid down his throat. If you could drink fire, this would be what it felt like, Arthur mused some days. Most days he hardly noticed the sensation though, as he waited for it to pass.

"Arthur"

A smile grew on his face as Arthur lifted his eyes to a beaming idiot grin.

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><p>Merlin was drifting, his body weightless as it flew on the invisible currents in the air. He felt no pain, yet he remembered it. He remembered a force knocking him backwards. He remembered struggling for breath, his vision dancing before him. And he remembered a pain so sharp he had cried out.<p>

His throat still stung, the red tears weeping from his neck freely and painfully.

"Merlin!"

The cry full of panic, stopped his own scream. He knew that voice.

Darkness threatened the edges of his visions as whispers started to chatter in his ears. _Let go, _they said. _Let go of the pain, don't you want to let go, to feel no pain ever again. _

_Yes, _he wanted to answer, the voices hypnotising him into submission.

"Merlin! No!"

There was that voice again. This time there was an edge of despair, of madness creeping into the tone. It pained him to hear it. The voice shouldn't sound so sad, he decided.

_Let go, let go. _The voices kept up their whispering.

"Merlin, please, no Merlin, please"

Then he was suddenly floating, the pain gone and he was watching the forest from above. The trees were beautiful, he thought looking down at the greens gradually fading to reds and golds. The sun was shining above him, warming his skin through the layers of cotton and wool. Merlin smiled as slowly he lifted, up towards where ever the gentle breeze was taking him.

"MERLIN!"

Instantly Merlin changed his direction, clinging to a branch, before he was lifted to high. The wind around him, abruptly ceased and suddenly, Merlin was falling. For a split second he was afraid, the floor coming to meet him at a startling pace.

But then he was gently placed onto the forest floor, his feet hitting the leaves without so much of a whisper of disturbance.

Two men were in front of him, one laying motionlessly on the ground, his throat split open in a wide red grin. The other was shaking the man's shoulders, calling his name desperately.

Give up, Merlin wanted to say. The man was obviously dead. But then he took a step closer and suddenly Merlin knew.

A soundless scream opened his mouth, as he looked down at his own body.

"No, no, no, no, no… NO!"

He screamed, and briefly Arthur paused, looking about him as if he was looking for something… someone. Merlin stared in shook at the scene. He couldn't be dead, he just couldn't. He had a destiny to fulfil.

"Merlin, oh Merlin" Arthur had returned to his body.

"I'm here" Merlin screamed at the blonde. "I'm right here" he sobbed.

Fat tears streamed down his cheeks, the liquid feeling warm against his cold skin. Arthur didn't hear him.

Gently he watched his King, pick up his body, a few tears falling into the red wound on his neck. Merlin watched them walked off. He should let them leave, he knew. He should go onto whatever the world had in store for him next. But as the shadow of the two disappeared into the trees a choke sob broke out of Merlin and he ran forward till he caught up with them.

He walked silently beside the two, trying to reach out to Arthur. "I'm right here, by your side" he murmured into the darkening day. "Right by your side, just as I have always been"

But Arthur made no inclination that he ever heard or saw any Merlin apart from the one in his arms.

They hadn't taken horses to deal with the rumours of bandits that had brought the two out into the woods, so the walk back was long and quiet. Eventually Arthur's tears cease to fall leaving only red rimmed eyes and clear tracks in the dirt on his face.

"I'm here, I'm right here" Merlin continued to whisper. He didn't know whether it was to comfort his King or himself now.

A scream tore into him once more, ripping him away from his thoughts.

"Merlin! Arthur what happened?"

The pale walls of Camelot loomed around him now, looking like pale ghosts in the moonlight. When had they arrived?

It was Gwen who had screamed, her brown/black hair streaming out behind her as she rushed to Arthur.

Tears were already forming in her bright eyes as she saw the wicked red grin his body now wore.

"Bandits" was all Arthur said as he pushed past his wife and made his way up the steps into his castle. Merlin stood still, letting them go. More and more people had appeared at Gwen's screams. Merlin recognised Gwaine and Leon exchange startled looks when they appeared from the stables, each breaking out into a desperate run as they saw Arthur.

Even citizens looked on with sad eyes as the King passed. Merlin felt another sob choke his throat. "No!" he cried. I don't want to cause you pain. "I'm here! I'm still here"

Desperately Merlin sank to his knees, his back leaning against the sturdy stones that built Camelot. His own hot tears streamed down his face.

"I'm still here. I'm still here" he whispered to the heavy harvest moon.

No one heard him.

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><p>"Merlin" Arthur greeted, a smile blooming on his face. Steadily he reached out for the man that stood grinning back at him. His hand clasped around solid flesh and joy surged through him.<p>

"You know you shouldn't be doing this" Merlin said, as he drew Arthur in for a hug.

Arthur returned the embrace happily, revelling in the feeling of heat that wavered off the other man. Slowly the memory of carrying Merlin's cold body was fading, with every touch, every reassurance that Merlin was here beside him.

"Don't do this" he said as he took a step back, allowing him to look into the man's steady blue gaze, yet still keeping a steady grip on his arms. "Not today" he whispered. "Let's just sit"

Merlin nodded, but there was twinge of sadness in his eyes. Together they fell to the floor, each leaning their backs against the stone as they gazed into the darkness.

The silence stretched out before them, filling the cavernous space with its tension. Yet for the first time today, Arthur was content. His shoulder leant against Merlin's beside him, every pulse of warmth he received, grounded Arthur more than saying goodbye at a funeral pyre could.

"Arthur" Merlin's voice echoed across the cave. Arthur shook his head.

"No Merlin. I know what you're going to say and I can't. I just can't" he used his formal King voice, hoping Merlin would hear the stubbornness in his tone. He knew he should grieve for his friend, move on. Merlin was just a servant, he should have been easy to replace. But he couldn't.

Merlin was silent for a few more minutes before he eventually spoke once more.

"Arthur-"

"Just can't shut up can you" Arthur cut across him. "Even in death, you find a way to be annoying" he chuckled. The sound was hollow and desperate.

"That's the thing Arthur, I'm dead. I shouldn't be here"

Anger suddenly caught Arthur, poisoning him as it streamed through his veins. "What do you want from me Merlin" Abruptly he stood, his voice ringing and sounding a thousand times louder in the cavern. "You want me to say it!" he glared down at Merlin who hadn't moved from his spot. "Fine! I can't let you go! I'm familiar with death, trust me I know how it goes. The person is gone! You grieve and move on, but I can't!" His anger dropped as suddenly as it came. "Not with you, I just can't okay" Tears were once again forming in his eyes, as he tried to glare at the man sitting before him. Slowly Merlin stood up. "Okay" he whispered, sliding his arms around Arthur's.

Arthur broke at the contact, letting his own arms pull Merlin closer as he the younger man dropped his head onto Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur couldn't help but notice the lack of breath that didn't ghost across his neck. He tightened his grip.

"Okay" they whispered together.

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><p>He's doing it again, Merlin noted as he strode through the halls that led between Gaius's and Arthur's chambers.<p>

4 months it had been. Winter had now gripped Camelot in its icy grasp. Snow howled through blizzards, drifting up to 6 feet tall, and blocking anyone from leaving their homes. Wood was stocked up high beside roaring fires, and food was piled up in Camelot's giant store rooms. People went about practising their crafts, improving themselves for the trading summer ahead and helping to keep the boredom away.

Mothers read stories to their children, knights honed their swords, the song of their steel meeting ringing out in one of the castle's bigger halls, and old men hobbled about, intent on making themselves useful while they wondered if this winter would be their last.

Merlin watched them all. It was all he could do now. Watch. No one could see him, no one could hear him, and so he watched. He watched people mourn him, and he watched people move on. His funeral had been a splendid affair.

Camelot's courtyard had been silent, despite the number of black clothed people lining the empty space. Up upon the towers, the gold dragon had flapped in the howling wind as thunder rumbled and threatened in the distance. His mother was there, clinging to Gaius as silent tears streamed down her face. Gaius was also weeping, a few silver tears finding their way down through the wrinkles that had appeared on his face, to drip onto the pale slabs of stone.

Merlin watched from distance. Watched as Arthur brought his body forward, wrapped in Arthur's finest red cloak.

"He was a knight of Camelot" the King had insisted. "He'll have a funeral worthy if a King." And he did, Arthur had made sure of it.

His throat had been closed up, his eyes had been shut. He could have been sleeping for all he knew. Gently Arthur laid him down on the pyre that had been built in his honour. The sticks piled high caught instantly as Arthur himself stepped forward with the torch.

Merlin watched tears streaming down his face, murmuring whispered words as he wrapped his arms around his middle, as if trying to physically keep himself together.

"I'm still here, I'm still here"

Crackling of log and flame took his words away from him.

"Don't let me go" he sobbed, dropping to his knees. Two hours had passed in a second, the logs falling and crumbling away to ash. The red cloak he had been wrapped in had already disappeared, but the black smoke prevented anyone from seeing his flesh and bone melting away to nothing.

"I'm still here, don't let me go"

The howling wind swiftly picked up and suddenly Kilgharrah had landed on the rooftops, his claws sending slate tiles crashing to the ground.

Screams rang out as knights drew their swords and Merlin gaped in shock.

Arthur didn't even raise his eyes from the fire. "I thought you were dead" he said almost sounding bored.

Kilgharrah's rough voice rumbled across the courtyard. "No"

"Arthur!" Leon shouted, his sword glinting dangerously as he rallied the knights. Kilgharrah laughed, the sound harsh and gritted. "Do not trouble yourself, young Knight, I am here for the young Warlock, nothing else."

Merlin slumped, his body feeling like it was suddenly made of water. Out of all the ways he thought his secret would be revealed, this hadn't even crossed his mind. All around him he felt the confusion of the knights, and Arthur finally lifted his gaze to the great beast perched on his castle.

Merlin swore Kilgharrah smiled.

"It doesn't matter" he finally said. "He's dead"

Kilgharrah bowed his great head. "Does this mean you'll lift the ban" he inquired as casually as if he was remarking about the weather.

Arthur looked back down at the dying fire. "No" he said shortly. Kilgharrah's expression turned to anger. "But I may think about it" Arthur finished.

"I see his shadow lingers" Kilgharrah replied, Merlin's fire dancing in his eyes. A frown appeared on Arthur's face. He whipped his head back towards Kilgharrah, but the dragon was already taking off, his wing beats sending great gusts down into the courtyard and making the pyre burn hotter for a moment.

If Merlin's heart was still beating, it would be hammering against his ribs, threatening to break free.

And that was how it started.

3 months 3 weeks after the funeral, 4 months after his death, Merlin felt the strange disturbance that happened every time Arthur did it.

Sighing Merlin pictured the great cavern, with its dripping rocky walls and broken chain and immediately he was there. But not alone.

Merlin watched, sadness squeezing his heart, till he thought it would explode.

"I'm here!" he cried out, screamed until his throat felt hoarse. Arthur never stirred, his happy eyes and grin fixated on the hallucination of him he thought he was seeing.

It would be different this time, he told himself every time he appeared in the cavern. This time Arthur would see that that wasn't the real him, that he was a fake.

But he never did.

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><p><strong>AN - I have a second part of this that I may write depending on time and response to this first part, but for the moment it will remain a one shot. As I said at the start, I have a thousand other things I do need to crack on with, and I can't keep putting them off. But let me know what you think, I can be persuaded to procrastinate easily.**


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